


A Fight to Remember

by SubtextEquals



Series: Living, Loving, Fighting [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an experienced MMA fighter, Agron isn't so sure this lightweight Spartacus is training amounts to much. That is, not until he sees him fight. Then everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fight to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Agron is a cocky heavyweight MMA fighter. His best friend Sparty has invited him to watch a new lightweight fighter he's training fight. When he first see's Nasir he's pretty sceptical this little man will be any good and is set to watch him take a beating. Once the fight starts though he sees this wild little dog and is smitten.

“You know this is a waste of time.” Agron brushed through the crowd gathered in preparation for the MMA match.

They weren’t closest to the ring but as near as they could be to also see above it. Spartacus had been very particular about making sure Agron had the best view of his latest protege. He kept telling Agron about how he’d want to see this guy. That he was the best fighter he’d ever trained. Then Agron found out this man was a lightweight and he lost all interest.

It wasn’t that he didn’t respect lightweights but their style of fighting wasn’t his or Spartacus’s sort of thing. Spartacus had been a champion, the best Agron had seen and he was lucky to be his friend. An injury, coupled with a disapproving wife, forced him to retire. But he’d always, always been a heavyweight. He knew how to fight that way. He was fucking good at it. Agron was sure he didn’t have a clue when it came to lightweights. This poor guy was going to be creamed in every fight. Agron had told his friend as much and just got laughed at for it.

“You’ll see,” Spartacus had said and he repeated it again now.

Well now Agron was seeing. Spartacus’s trainee stepped in to get ready for the fight. Even as a heavyweight, Agron knew enough about the system to tell that this guy was screwed ten different ways and was going to come out of this with an ass so sore he’d never be able to take another ramming again.

He was slim, even for light weights. While he might be fit, he was clearly unable to put on much muscle. Too lithe. Way too short. He’d make for a better gymnast than a fighter. Pity. With those looks, that short hair that curled slightly, the dark, determined eyes, and the scars on his ribs and eyes, he looked like the sort of guy Agron would rather get to know.

It was too bad he was going to come out of this with broken bones and spinning from a concussion.

His opponent looked more promising. While definitely within the weight limit, he had much more muscle on him and Agron recognized the same attitude that he himself possessed in a fight. Confident, every move exuding the fact that he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. Spartacus called it arrogance. Agron didn’t give a fuck what he called it. It worked.

“You know your man is fucked.” Agron didn’t bother keeping quiet.

“His name is Nasir and he’s not what you expect. Shut up and watch.”

So Agron did, bored at first, ignoring the crowd’s cheers. Nasir did a good job at dodging the blows but that was all he did. Rolling away, playing cat and mouse, and sooner or later he was going to be caught.

But then the mouse turned into a wild dog. He jabbed his opponent with his elbow, followed with an uppercut, and brought him down with a kick to the knee.

Agron straightened. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Spartacus turn his head toward him but he didn’t bother thinking about his friend. He was too focused on this guy.

“You said his name’s Nasir?” He was breathless, captivated, watching as Nasir got the other man in a headlock and landed a blow to the side of his head.

“That’s right. What’s that you were saying earlier?”

“Fuck,” Agron sighed. “I have to meet him.”

Agron gaped but Nasir was oblivious, pummeling his poor opponent until the match was declared his.

 

Despite his decided victory, Nasir had taken a few blows. There was one to the face that left his cheek swollen, but the rest were hidden under the shirt he’d pulled on before going out to meet with Spartacus and Agron at a bar to celebrate. Alcohol wasn’t a good idea but none of them gave a fuck, least of all Agron.

Jesus, knowing this guy had only three bruises from that fight just made him hotter. Agron wanted to peel off that shirt and see them all.

If Spartacus noticed the sex eyes Agron was currently making at his trainee, he didn’t show it. Instead he slapped Nasir’s shoulder when he found him and shoved him over to his friend.

“You made a good impression on Agron,” he said and smiled at him.

O.K., he’d definitely noticed. And, judging by the knowing curve of Nasir’s lips, so had the incredible God damn lightweight.

“You thought I’d get the crap beat out of me, didn’t you?” Nasir’s smile turned into a grin.

“It crossed my mind. Fuck, you were amazing. Are you always that good?”

“Do you want to find out?”

“I’ll get some drinks.” Spartacus slipped out of the way, leaving them alone.

“God, yes,” Agron couldn’t believe it. This man was talking to him like nothing had happened, like this was just another day and it had all been effortless. “What was that fighting style? Muay Thai?”

They were so caught up in talking about their techniques that they didn’t notice Spartacus return with the drinks until he’d practically shoved them in their hands.

 

Agron didn’t know how many hours it was later but they had rented a hotel room and Nasir had him straddled and pinned to the bed by his arms. Nasir leaned down to kiss him, tasting of alcohol and blood. Agron was hard in moments and bucking up against Nasir, who let go of him just to sit up and remove his own shirt.

The bruises were there, one on the side of his stomach and the other just near the scar that stretched across his ribs. Maybe one day Agron would ask about that. Maybe not. He just knew that he needed this, Nasir above him or below him or any way he could have him for as many times as Nasir would let him.

Just after Nasir stripped off his pants, Agron’s hand went to palm the man’s cock.

“Are you even better at this?” he asked.

Nasir laughed as he bent over to kiss Agron again. “You’ll see.”


End file.
